Thoughts
by Mishka of the Maroons
Summary: Joseph and Clarisse do a little bit of thinking before they get romantically involved... and there are awkward situations that lead to it! Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Thoughts  
**By:** Mishka  
**Rating:** K+... But T to be sure!  
**Summary:** Just a little something for Spring! Set sometime before Joseph and Clarisse get romantically involved...  
**Dedicated To:** Katie, because she's the sweetest; Cátia, because I promised her this story (I'm not sure if this'll surprise you, my dear, because I really don't think it will -- it's too normal!); and Leonie, because she beta-read this for me... and she helped me a lot! And, Leonie, my dear, don't kill me if you still see so many errors!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Princess Diaries... I only wish I did. There would have been more Clarisse/Joseph stuff!

**A/N: **This is a very short story. In fact, the chapter after this will be the last. So, bear with me! Enjoy!

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**Chapter 1**

It was a beautiful early morning. The air was crisp and the palace, not surprisingly, quiet. All of Genovia was still snug in bed, and snores, loud and soft reverberated through the rooms of most of the royal staff. The birds were singing the same almost soothing, soft, little songs that they sang every spring.

But even with this sleep-inducing sound, Genovia's Royal Head of Security was awake.

The kitchen was woken early, and coffee was started. The stove and the frying pan started the early shift. Eggs were scrambled; peanut butter spread over a slice of bread. And he, the early one in his bathrobe, stood facing the stove, a bowl of scrambled egg in one hand and a turner in the other.

He couldn't sleep anymore, and he wouldn't want to anyway. Sleep had simply eluded him. Every time he had closed his eyes, the same pictures pop up, and he'd open his eyes to find himself breathing funny. So he had gotten up and had left his bed for what it was; a mess of navy blue sheets he didn't want to be with. He had reached for his black robe and covered his pajamas. Subconsciously, his steps had led him to the kitchen, all cold and uninviting. But, nonetheless, he had gone in and had started an early meal.

oOo

On the other part of the royal palace, everything was just as eerily silent. But the only resident of the family wing was, quite unexpectedly, wide awake. She sat on the sitting room couch, facing the hearth. There was no fire burning and she was cold, wearing only a silky cream robe over her nightgown. A book, marked somewhere near the middle, was face down on the coffee table before her. Her pair of glasses was still perched on her nose, and her wide, brilliant blue eyes were open, looking at anything she found amusing at that moment. The picture frame, the painting, the flowers, even the used candle; she found them quite interesting for ten seconds and then she'd find something else to stare at.

She couldn't sleep. Her Majesty, the Queen of Genovia, simply couldn't get back to sleep. Every time she had tried to close her eyes again, the same thought would enter her mind, and it had distracted her. She had known there wasn't a chance she'd be able to sleep. Goodness, she had realized, she hadn't been sleepy to begin with. So she had gotten up, left her bed and the comfort it might have offered had she stayed there a little longer. Her soft slippers beckoned for her, so she had slipped them on, put on her robe, and had grabbed a book to read on the couch. Twenty minutes for reading two pages had proved to her that she was, undoubtedly, out of focus that morning.

Her daze annoyed her, and she figured that a cup of tea might help her to sleep. So she took her glasses off, placed them on top of her book and found her way to the kitchen. The soft cluttering of metal and china intrigued her so she set her pace, and found the very person she least expected to see.

oOo

She couldn't back out now since he had already processed her profile on the kitchen doorway. He stared. She blinked. Time stood still. But they couldn't go back to their own rooms without saying a word to each other; they were much too polite for that. And besides, who'd have thought about being in the kitchen at three in the morning? She couldn't say it was a coincidence, he couldn't say it was instinct…

"Clarisse..." He said, startled at her presence, and placed his fork down.

"Joseph." They stared a few seconds more before she finally decided to step inside and talk to him properly. "I wasn't expecting you here."

"Neither was I expecting you'd come here." He smirked and she smiled, looking at the food on the table. She felt famished all of a sudden.

"That's quite a meal you have there. Would you care to share?" she asked, walking over to the counter to fetch a cup of coffee for herself instead of tea. It would help her to be awake in a somewhat awkward situation right now.

"Of course." He waved his hand, gesturing on the food. "Help yourself." He started eating again, waiting for her to grab a plate and fork and sit down with him.

"Can't sleep?" she asked conversationally as she sat down on the table and took a slice of bread and omelet.

"You're right," he said, holding his fork up in agreement. They both chuckled, even as the tension increased between them. "I'm quite certain you have the same reason?" he rather good-humoredly asked.

"Mm-hmm." She smiled, not elaborating on what the real reason was for her not being able to sleep. It would only be too embarrassing if he would ever know.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, stealing glances now and then. She noticed he was dressed in a simple white shirt underneath his black robe, peeping from below the edge of his sleeve. His hair—well, what remained of it—was a bit tousled and his muscles were taut. Good god, what was she thinking, describing him in such a way? He was her best friend, and he shouldn't be more than that.

Meanwhile, as Clarisse's thoughts moved like roller coasters in her own head, Joseph couldn't help but notice what she was wearing: a silky, somehow translucent cream-colored robe over her nightdress. The softness and loose cut of her robe showed a subtle amount of cleavage peering out at her neckline, and her golden hair was floppy and flat on her head. Quite obviously, she was wearing no make up, and her natural beauty shone. She could wear the best gowns, but the way she looked now was a rare privilege to see. He looked down on his food. He should not think such things about his friend, let alone his employer and queen.

"So… how are you?"

Joseph almost jumped. He had been much too engrossed in his own little world.  
To cover his start, he simply said, "I'm fine, busy as ever." He grinned at her. "How are you? How's the proposal you made?" She looked at him, smiled rather sadly, and bent her head to look at her empty plate.

"Fine. The proposal's been approved, but Parliament will soon meet again for it." She stood up, picked her plate and fork up, and placed them on the counter. "Are you done with yours?" she asked, looking at the small piece of omelet left on his plate.

"Yeah." He quickly finished the last bite, and handed her the plates on the table. "But you don't need to do that," he said, pointing to the dishes on the sink.

"I'm not."

There they are again. Everytime they had started to communicate, they ended up staring at each other's eyes or fidgeting with whatever thing was at hand. They both had known it annoyed them. But could they really do something? They were alone. Besides talk, what could they do? To put it straight, they had known something changed between them since the month after the King's death. Everything _had_ changed when life made a turn and fate had seemed to lend a hand. Each day and night the only person they could think of had been the other. She couldn't get him out of her head, and he simply couldn't stop thinking about her. What had bothered them was that, at their age, they wondered… could they perhaps be in love? Wasn't it just friendship they had felt towards the other? They had known it wasn't; deep in their hearts, they had _known_ that what they felt wasn't JUST friendship, it was something else much, much deeper. But they had been much too afraid to acknowledge it.

"So," Joseph said, gesturing with one hand towards the kitchen doorway.

"So…?" Clarisse asked. What exactly was he trying to say?

"Are we going to sit and talk, or am I to escort you to your rooms?" He dropped his hands and grinned at her. "I have quite a feeling that you're exhausted."

"I am. Why don't we call it a night?" At the look he gave, she chuckled. "Alright, I know it's late, since it's…"—she looked at the wall clock above the shelves—"… 4:00 in the morning." She took a deep breath—a broken gasp—it was that late?

"We should get some rest." He looked at her, rather concerned. "Come; I shall accompany you to your door."

She simply nodded and together they walked through the dark, empty hallways that led to the solitude of the family wing. There were no guards at this time of day, and so they merely walked side by side to her suite. There wasn't any touching, and hardly any glance at the other. No sounds were made, no word uttered. Not even their steps sounded on the marble floor.

As they reached her door, however, they stopped and looked at each other, half smiles plastered on their faces. She smiled and tipped her head towards the door; a silent gesture of goodbye. He smiled back in unspoken agreement.

But as she turned to open her door, however, he caught hold of her hand, and her actions faltered. She slowly turned to see him in the darkness, illuminated only by the faint light of a lamp far away. Their breaths caught. Slowly, he raised his hand to tangle in her hair, and she closed her eyes... Oh God, what was happening?

After the three seconds that seemed to last an eternity, she felt his lips on her forehead and his hand on the back of her head. His other hand still held hers, and he squeezed it gently before his lips left her face and he looked at her. She opened her eyes to gaze at him once again. His face bore a tender expression while he smiled lovingly at her.  
He squeezed her hand again.

"Sleep well, Clarisse…"

And then he was gone, leaving her baffled and staring at the sharp turn, some few feet away, that shielded her from the rest of the palace. She shook her head and tried to ignore the intensity of the emotions she had felt as his lips had come in contact with her skin. She went inside her bedroom, into the seclusion of her thoughts, and finally laid her head to sleep.

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_to be continued..._  
_Review, and you can sleep with Joseph! Hehe..._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sorry for the late update, but I had other things to do and couldn't come near the computer. Anyway, thanks for all the reviews! Without further ado, here is the second and the last chapter of this story. I hope you will like it!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the PD's. Since this is based on the movies, Disney owns them.

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**Chapter 2**

Birds chirping, tree leaves rustling—these were the sounds that greeted the Queen as she slowly opened her eyes from sleep. The room, like it was every spring and the past few days, looked simply majestic. It was illuminated in an orange beam, and the curtains swayed in the light breeze, giving her a fairytale-like feeling while she sat up in bed to glance around. Then she looked at the clock on her nightstand; Seven o'clock—three hours of sleep. She struggled out of bed and moved to do her daily routine. It WAS still quite early though, since she was not likely to be in the office until nine. Well, perhaps she'll be a little early today. At least it would be a bit of a consolation to spare Charlotte some waiting.

As expected, nobody was yet in the office, so Clarisse decided to review the proposal she made. It would help her to see it again and perhaps find some undiscovered flaws, thus saving parliament the effort of arguing with her on the subject.

Charlotte came a few minutes later, was shocked at the Queen's early presence, and accidentally dropped the clipboard in her hand. She stooped to pick it up, but the Queen was still so concentrated on the proposal that she hadn't even noticed her come in. Charlotte cleared her throat and dropped to a curtsy as the Queen finally looked at her with a smile on her face.

"Good morning, Charlotte."

"Good morning, Your Majesty. You're a little early today," Charlotte said, smiling as the Queen bade her to sit down.

"Well, it IS a beautiful spring morning..." The Queen let out a small chuckle and Charlotte couldn't help but beam at her. Her Majesty's good mood was always infectious. And this morning, it seemed it was in full bloom. "What's for today?"

As Clarisse listened to her assistant's chatter on her schedule, she couldn't prevent herself from reliving the memories of earlier that day. His lips on the skin of her forehead, his soft touch—it had all been too much. Her breathing labored, her heart pounded in her chest, and her concentration faded away from the person sitting before her desk. She closed her eyes and unconsciously brought her hand to caress her forehead, all the while forgetting that she had an audience.

Charlotte instantly stopped talking and concern flooded her features. "Your Majesty, are you feeling unwell?" Clarisse didn't reply, nor did she even open her eyes. Clearly, she hadn't heard the worry in her assistant's voice; well, precisely, she had NOT heard her at all, being much too absorbed in her memories. "Your Majesty?" Charlotte asked a little louder. The Queen didn't hear her again. "Your Majesty…? Ma'am?" She once more asked, now standing and bending over the desk, and touched her sovereign's arm. At this, Clarisse's eyes fluttered open. "Your Majesty, are you alright?"

Clarisse looked around the room, failing to remember why she was there. Realization soon came and she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I… Yes, I'm alright... A sudden thought just came into mind." She smiled apologetically.

"Of course," Charlotte said, rather hesitant and unable to hide her concern. "Would you like a cup of tea, Ma'am?"

"That would be lovely, thank you." Clarisse smiled tenderly at the younger woman, hoping to reassure her. Charlotte smiled back, still worried, excusing herself to fetch the tea.

"Charlotte, is lunch ready? I need to rest a bit because of this headache."

Clarisse frowned, massaging her temple with one hand, and signing a document with the other. They had been in the office all morning, and now the only thing she wanted to do was rest. Her right hand was starting to feel numb due to the constant signing, and her eyes were tired of reading. Yes, the morning might have been very productive considering that both Queen and assistant had managed to discuss and sign about twice the usual number of documents, but now they could feel the exhaustion.

"I'll see to your lunch right away, Ma'am. Why don't you rest before it arrives? We have already done much…" Clarisse could feel the tiredness in Charlotte's voice, and she couldn't help but admire the younger woman.

"Would you like to eat with me, Charlotte? I wish to have a companion to chat with for a while."

Hearing the unexpected offer from her Queen, Charlotte instantly blushed and stammered. "I-If that is what you wish, Your Majesty, I shall be delighted." Clarisse smiled.

"Very well, then. Kindly tell the kitchen that we'll eat in the garden. I need some air." She gave her assistant a little wink, and Charlotte beamed at her. Instantly she got to her feet and went to the kitchen to tell the staff about Her Majesty's request.

Clarisse then went through the double doors and into the garden, only to be greeted by footsteps coming her way.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," Joseph greeted Clarisse formally. He had been in the security office all day arranging things for the arrival of Princess Mia in a few months; on her 21st birthday. He had done nothing else but this and the occasional glance to the screen showing her Majesty's office. In time for lunch, he had come out into the garden to get some fresh air. Charlotte had also informed him about Her Majesty's plans for lunch.

Protocol said he had to be with the Queen especially when outside, or have someone from the Security team to watch her. Since he was free—and he wouldn't trust her safety on somebody else's hands anyway—he had gone out to be with her.

"Good afternoon, Joseph." The memories once more came rushing back to her, but she didn't budge, composed as ever. "It's a lovely day isn't it?" She smiled warmly at him. He was dressed, as usual, in his black polo shirt and black trousers. But even with the simplicity of his outfit, he looked just as dashing and as handsome as he had always been, Clarisse thought with a smile.

"Yes, it is… a lovely day and a lovely sight," he said rather sweetly to her. She was wearing a light blue dress, which marvelously enriched the sapphire blue of her eyes, and her make-up and hair were once again made to perfection. She blushed lightly at the subtle compliment.

"Thank you. Would you like to eat with Charlotte and me, Joseph?" she suddenly found herself asking him.

He had originally planned to stand in the vicinity of their eating place, as per protocol again, but since she had asked… well, why not? "I would be honored, Ma'am." Clarisse's smile widened.

"Wait for me in the gazebo; Charlotte and I'll follow soon." She said, making her way back to the office to tell Charlotte about the sudden change of arrangement.

Meanwhile, Joseph walked to the gazebo and to the awaiting table and chairs. He made his way around them, to the other side, looking at the wide expanse of flowers and plants.

She loved this—Clarisse, his closest friend and confidante, loved this place. She loved being with the flowers; she loved taking care of them, and even simply looking at them. She was relaxed and comfortable to be with when walking around and simply enjoying the time.

He smiled.

It had been here, some 20 years ago, when he had first seen her. She had been wearing a white summer dress, walking regally beside her white poodle, which would have looked exactly like Maurice. He had just been accepted into the Security team, having been recommended by the Head of Security of the Spanish royal family. He had served for them and had been rewarded greatly for his service…

But he had wanted to try something new—new places, new faces, and an entirely different kingdom to match. He still had wanted to be in the royal security of course, but of another country than Spain. So he had been recommended to the King and Queen of Genovia, who had accepted him warmly into the team. And well, he _had_ seen the Queen then, although he had never really taken the time to notice the little things that were badly in need of attention.

It was in this garden when he had finally noticed her femininity; well, actually, the absolute grandeur of how a Queen was and should be. True, it had been a breezy summer morning and was hardly an appropriate time for formality, but what they had was simply a formal talk between employer and employee; a very memorable one on his account, though. He had not hoped then for anything but little recognition, but now, what he wanted was far more than what any employee would ask of a Queen—her love.

Yes, her love. There was no point in turning back and denying it now. He loved her… with all his heart and more than his life. And yet he couldn't tell her; he could only show her bits of what he really felt. He knew it wasn't enough—but what could he do? She was the Queen and he was only a member of staff, definitely not a distinguished affiliate of the Genovian upper class.

Whatever it took, he wouldn't spoil the friendship that had formed between them. Even if he DID have to hide his feelings in the shadows for her, he would still submit himself to do it. He would rather have her 'only' as a friend than lose her because of the insane idea to declare his love for her. As he had been telling his heart and mind all these years, she was his QUEEN, and he was only her Head of Security—it just wouldn't be proper!

He resigned himself to thinking about the upcoming events of the year instead of dreaming of the impossible—at least, THAT would be a better use of his time.

A few minutes later, Clarisse appeared with a rather breathless Charlotte behind her. As usual, the poor girl had to catch up with her monarch's pace. He chuckled silently and inwardly; he knew, of course, how fast the Queen could walk!

"Good afternoon, Charlotte," he greeted the assistant, who just smiled back and nodded. They sat on the chairs and waited for the food to arrive.

While waiting, Clarisse and Joseph talked about the security preparations for Princess Mia's birthday, while Charlotte—who, by Clarisse's order, had left her clipboard in the office—mentally noted everything that the Queen and Joseph talked about. Her efficiency was definitely unquestionable; sharp memory, organization and all.

The food arrived a few minutes later and they started to eat, bits of conversation thrown in occasionally.

It was in the middle of dessert when Charlotte excused herself, saying she had forgotten that she had to make a phone call when, in fact, she just wanted the two others to find some time for themselves.

Ever since seeing them dancing together at the Consulate the afternoon after Mia's lesson, she had begun to be paying special attention to the possible relationship between Her Majesty and Joseph. She had arranged for them to meet or bump into each other some days and had managed to slip the other's name in a conversation. Of course, her methods had been quite unsuccessful in finding more information on the couple—goodness, they were too discreet! Even when she knew that what she was doing was indirectly (or perhaps, directly) intruding on their privacy, she had learned to tell herself that she was only doing what she can to help.

As Charlotte went back to the relative distance of the palace, the tension in the gazebo now rose to a few feet higher than the structure itself. He was nervous. She was nervous. They were BOTH nervous, for God's sake! The easy conversation that went between the former threesome had now vanished into thin air, leaving Clarisse and Joseph to gape at their food. Speech was trapped in their mouths, waiting only for the right time to come out, like words waiting for a pen to form them on paper.

"Have you…"

"Your Majesty…"

Their words came out simultaneously, making Clarisse flush lightly. He only cleared his throat and said, "I'm sorry, Clarisse, go on, please." She chuckled lightly, the tension in the air very gradually lessening.

"I was only about to ask if you have received the drafted map of Calais that the French Prime Minister sent me. You do remember that I have a meeting there next month, do you not?"

"Yes, your Majesty, I have received the draft. And I have also made the security arrangements for the time of your stay there. You can trust that the final report will be on your desk by tomorrow morning, if you'll allow me the time to finalize everything today." He smiled rather ruefully at her. She nodded.

"Of course." She smiled back. "That would not be a problem at all."

"Thank you."

They resumed eating their dessert—and perhaps talk some more a little later—when Charlotte materialized on their sides. No matter how the young woman had to restrain herself from disturbing her monarch, she couldn't stand in the way of duty. She couldn't even understand how she now disliked the word, especially when interrupting a moment of, well, closeness.

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry to disturb you from your dessert, but the Prime Minister of France has called and is asking if the meeting next week will be agreeable for you?" Charlotte rather regretfully asked. Clarisse smiled at her.

"Yes, Charlotte, I have made it quite clear the last time he called." Then she chuckled, jokingly stating, "I can't even begin to imagine how repetitive he is!" They laughed. Perhaps now, the tension must have dropped to a foot lower than the roof of the gazebo—but not low enough to strike the comfort zone, though, despite the fact that they WERE trying so hard to relax. Upon receiving the confirmation she needed from her sovereign, the young aide went back into the palace, once again leaving the couple alone.

They continued to eat their dessert in silence, both acutely aware of the other's proximity, but not showing it much. Or so they thought… it was obviously clear that they would want to be somewhere else rather than stuttering before the person they so adored! The silence must have been deafening if not for the clink of the forks against plates and the occasional rustling of leaves on the plants surrounding them.

Joseph looked at Clarisse as he put down his fork. He had finished eating and was now waiting for her to finish as well. He smirked while he watched her close her soft, peachy lips around a generous bite of chocolate pudding. His smirk widened into a full blown smile. Oh, how wanted to feel those soft lips on his! There was nothing more he wanted to do to her now but ravish her, then and there, claiming her mouth in a frenzied kiss, his hands traveling over the contours of her body while her own caressed him. Their breathing hot and laboured, and their hearts beating as one…

"Is there something wrong, Joseph?"

He blinked. Oh God, what had he been thinking, staring at her like that?! Well, he KNEW what he was thinking—no need to ask that! He cleared his throat, hoping that he wouldn't turn red at being caught ogling and having absolutely inappropriate fantasies about his Queen.

"No." He shook his head. "No, there's nothing wrong. I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I was just… thinking." He smiled stiffly at her. She narrowed her eyes to sense if he was lying or not.

"Well, if you say so."

She had finally finished her dessert, and walked back to the palace with Joseph by her side. The occasional brushing of their arms did nothing to cool the heat in their bodies. They had talked, yes, but mostly about security and business, and not a word about 'them'. Well, they didn't mind at all, since they were spending time together even if it WAS to discuss political and security issues.

He escorted her to her office and was rewarded with a gentle hand caressing his cheek when they arrived. He wasn't surprised—she always did that. He bowed down and kissed her hand, squeezing it just as lightly as he had done earlier that day.

"Thank you for the wonderful meal, your Majesty." He smiled genuinely. She smiled back, telling herself not to mention of what happened earlier that day, no matter how hard it was for her not to do it.

But she lacked her usual self-control, and the words just flowed out; she couldn't help it!

"You're welcome, Joseph." She took a deep breath. "And I also want to thank you for this morning… The meal, I meant." She added hastily, and smiled rather hesitantly. Joseph stared at her, almost unable to reply.

"You're welcome, your Majesty, it was my pleasure," his response was _so_ calm and very softly spoken that it made her chuckle inwardly—his pleasure indeed? Especially the kiss in the end? She blushed.

Clarisse cleared her throat and smiled at him, ready to sit down at her desk. Oh God, he loved her. He smiled back, bowed and left so that she could work on the things needed to be done today.

Joseph realized that he had to think of the right approach in telling her what he really felt. Yes, he knew she felt the same. He could feel it. But, the problem was: HOW would he do it? As the princess would soon be of age to assume the throne, he needed to think about this before his time was up. And so did the Queen; that was for sure. A lot of things needed to be considered. Nothing concerning security or politics, or even Mia; no, they had to think about the possible outcome of their relationship.

In different places, but simultaneously, they smiled. Love was surely in the air.

**The End.**

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So... how was it? What did you think? Worth a review?


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